Claire, Lauren and I were three peas in a pod growing up. Claire lives in Seattle now and while we haven’t been the best at keeping in touch, when she arrived an hour ago, we easily picked back up where we left off in high school.

“The dicks are coming!” I shout as I pull the paper dicks out of the bag, but she’s already there in the doorway, and I hold up the poster so she can check out Ryan Gosling on steroids. I wave the paper dicks around, then I explode with the giggles at my little joke. “Get it? They’re coming?”

“Hilarious,” she deadpans before waving me out toward the hallway.

I’m still laughing as she waves her hands, urgently motioning me out of the guest room where I’ve stashed all the party supplies. I didn’t think pin the junk on the hunk would garner such enthusiasm.

“Where should we hang it?” I ask.

“Forget the game. The stripper is here. And he’s gorgeous. Not like a Jersey Shore beef cake, fake tan kind of stripper, but a sexy businessman stripper. Where did you find him? WallStreetStrippers.com?”

Ooh la la. A stripper sounds fun. Even better than pin the dick on the prick or whatever this game is called. But I gather the game up and bring it anyways because I did put a lot of effort into it.

As I start to follow Claire back into the living room, her words finally penetrate the vodka-induced fog clouding my brain. I really should have been keeping track of how many shots I’ve taken.

“Wait.” I stop short, nearly dropping the paper dicks on the floor. “I didn’t hire a stripper.”

There’s only one man that would have access to JoAnna’s apartment without needing to be buzzed in. My stomach clenches with anxiety. Oh God.

“Really?” Claire’s eyes turn to saucers. “So, who’s the stud in the suit?”

My eyes scan the sea of scantily-clad women until I find him. There, across the room, looking like sex on a stick in a navy suit, with his thick, dark hair, perfect nose and chiseled jaw, being hounded by all the bachelorette party attendees is Barrett.

My heart stops. This is a scenario that I never in a million years considered. And why would I? Why would Barrett stop by JoAnna’s on a Friday night? When she’s out of town? Doesn’t he have better things to do? Like take candy from babies and suck people’s souls from their bodies dementor-style?

He sees me then, and when our eyes connect, everything stops. It’s what I imagine a deer feels when its body is lit up by the high beams of an oncoming vehicle. Frozen, stunned, unable to do anything but wait for impact.

His hazel gaze holds mine, intense and challenging, before his full lips slide into a devilish smirk.